“I trusted you!” James tossed a pillow at me.

  I caught it and tossed it to the foot of his hospital bed. “How was I supposed to know your dad owned the site?”

  “Yeah,” Lucy piped up. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  James snatches the pillow and flopped back on the mattress. “What did it matter?”

  All his irritation deflated as his body sagged over the crummy bed. What was it with all my friends winding up in a hospital anytime we played in the woods? Was that normal?

  “Well, at least you get a couple nights out of the house.” Lucy’s smile was broken.

  “Yeah, but when I get home…” James groaned into his palms. “They’ll never let me leave again.”

  “Best live it up now!” Lucy pranced up, shaking the convenience store bag from her arm and dumping it on the bed. “We got Milk Duds, Twizzlers, and Reese’s Pieces.”

  “Plus soda,” I held up my bag, more gentle than Lucy.

  “Well, duh!” Lucy’s grin grew as she drew out a Mello Yello.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “What are you two talking about?”

  “Movie night.” I shrugged, closing the blinds. “May as well take advantage of the free cable access.”

  “I hear Svengoolie’s gonna play Brides of Dracula.” Lucy sounded a little too enthusiastic.

  “Great, a pity party.” James took his hands off his face. “You two hate those old movies.”

  “Not when you’re in the hospital we don’t.” I plunked into the visitor chair by his bed and snatched the remote, flipping through the channels until a tubby guy in a big hat lurched from his talking coffin, introducing this week’s feature film.

  The guy’s jokes were worse than James’ but the rubber chicken was funny. By the time the movie was over, James was snoozing softly. Lucy and I cleaned up the candy wrappers and soda bottles so his mom wouldn’t freak.

  The nurses asked about the movie while Lucy called her mom to come pick us up. I’ll give Lucy credit, she waited until we were in the elevator to say it.

  “You could have moved him.” Her reproach wasn’t loud. She was too tired to yell.

  The elevator digits changed slowly as the box lurched downward. My words were almost lost in the steady hum. “What if he’d had a broken back?”

  “He didn’t.” She crossed her arms and glared. “Don’t make excuses.”

  “We didn’t know that and it’s not an excuse,” I sighed, rubbing my temples.

  We descended another floor before she said, “There’s such a thing as being too cautious.”

  I didn’t have a chance to reply; the doors switched open and she marched out.